


here we go, bluebird

by natscribbles (nat_scribbles)



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, nothing heavy but read author notes for triggers if you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 04:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7493559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nat_scribbles/pseuds/natscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ai brightens at that, does this excited wiggle thing on his seat, like an excited puppy. sousuke is sure he is dangling his legs again, if only because ai’s foot brushes against his calf under the table and he feels a shock of heat run up through his leg and sit at the pit of his stomach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	here we go, bluebird

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this like a year ago and I never posted it here. note from my original tumblr post:  
> this was supposed to be fluffy and all about ai wearing cute clothes and somehow it turned into a weird ansty pining thing, i’m sorry. i may continue this? if people are interested? maybe? idk. this is the first thing i’ve written in years. warnings for alcoholism and implied sexual stuff. also unbeta’d/proof read.

technically, sousuke knows ai still lives here, in this city, too. he just didn’t expect to run into him again. sure, it was a distant possibility, something he was aware of, a buried thought in the back of his brain. but now, staring at the opposite side of the the train station, it is a reality.

ai hasn’t seen him, so he allows himself to watch, pushing his glasses up slightly from where they’ve slipped down his nose. ai is sitting, reading a thin book, legs dangling slightly. sousuke tells himself he’d call out to him if ai weren’t wearing headphones. he knows it’s not true, what would he say? besides, they both have trains to catch in opposite directions.

 

***

 

he remembers telling momo once to stop thinking about beetles and concentrate on swimming.

“but senpai! i can’t do that now! don’t you know that when you tell someone not to think of something, then they can’t stop thinking of it?”

sousuke remembers and sighs. ever since he saw ai at the station two weeks ago, it’s as if he had infiltrated into his life, his brain, slowly. he can’t stop noticing him. he keeps catching shocks of silver hair while walking down the streets, flashes of pastel colours. he hasn’t seen ai again, it’s never him, but that doesn’t matter. ai is like a shining beacon and sousuke feels like a silly bug, flying towards it.

 

***

 

“senpai?”

sousuke looks up from his food into the clearest eyes he’s ever known.

“i knew it was you!” ai smiles brightly, beams, and sousuke is glad he’d already swallowed his soda. still, he makes a show of swallowing nothing again, just because he doesn’t know what to say.

ai sits down in front of him and rests his elbows on the table, cradling his face in his hands. he is still smiling, his eyes squinted, irises peeking behind long lashes.

“what are you doing back here? if you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

that, sousuke knows how to answer. he puts his drink down on the tray, exactly on top of the circle the condensation had made before.

“working.” he answers, smears a drop from the side of the cup with his thumb, and adds, “i live here now.”

ai brightens at that, does this excited wiggle thing on his seat, like an excited puppy. sousuke is sure he is dangling his legs again, if only because ai’s foot brushes against his calf under the table and he feels a shock of heat run up through his leg and sit at the pit of his stomach.

“that’s great! maybe we can meet up some time.”

sousuke nods, how can he not. he is a helpless fly and ai shines brighter than the sun.

“i’ll tell momo-kun! he’ll be so happy that you are back!”

sousuke looks down at his half-eaten burger and fries. they sit heavy on his stomach now, making him feel a bit queasy.

“we should all go out, meet again. maybe rin-senpai can come too, if he’s in town? it could be a while before that happens, though. we definitely have to see each other again before that. here, i’ll write my phone and email address down for you, although i haven’t changed the, just in case.” ai babbles on, taking a notebook and a pen out of his messenger bag and scribbling messily on a page he tears out.

sousuke watches him. it feels like he’s always been watching him. back then, when it was the four of them, he was always watching, too.

“it was so nice seeing you! i have to go now, though, sorry.” ai stands up before sousuke can say anything. not that he would, if he’s being realistic. he fixes his beanie, pulling it lower over his ears and flattening his silver fringe against his forehead making it cover his eyes slightly.

“text me!” ai mouths from the other side of the window before waving goodbye and disappearing between the people.

sousuke keeps staring long after he’s gone.

 

***

 

the paper is lined and coloured a shade of pastel that is too yellow to be orange. there’s a drawing of a small chick on the lower left corner. or maybe it’s a duckling, sousuke doesn’t know. he thumbs over the scribbled number on the paper and folds it again. he should really text ai, it’s been three days.

 

***

 

it’s been a long day at work. a long week, a fucking long month. trimester, even. sousuke is ready to go back home and drop dead, except he doesn’t know if he can handle how his one-room apartment feels. it’s stifling sometimes, like it’s slowly draining the life out of him, making him wake up even more tired than he passed out the night before.

that is, if he sleeps at all. sometimes he just stares at the ceiling, a dull ache pulsating in his chest at the rhythm of his heart. these days he doesn’t even reach below the elastic waistband of his boxers, too tired to deal with the choking feeling in his throat and the stinging behind his eyelids that comes afterwards.

so he doesn’t go home. his steps lead him to the bar, where he sits heavily at the end of the room, double scotch in his hand and burning its way to his stomach.

 

***

 

it becomes part of his routine. at the end of the week, sousuke will head down to a bar and swallow drink after drink until the world is soft and blurry at the edges, until the trembling in his hands stop and his eyelids drop, until his tie doesn’t feel like it’s choking him anymore.

sometimes he will fuck someone, a quick handjob or blowjob in the toilets. they are faceless, just a means to an end. it’s enough to make his mind even more fuzzy and that’s okay for him.

weeks go by and the folded piece of paper in the inside pocket of his shirt seems to weigh more and more. he’s afraid to take it out, lest the paper burn his hand.

 

***

 

he wakes up with his dry tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, his breath sour. his head pounds, needles of pain shooting behind his eyelids when he scrunches them before blinking angrily at the sunlight. he groans softly and buries his head beneath the fluffy comforter. maybe in this cocoon that smells faintly of lavender reality won’t be able to catch him.

except, muffled through the fabric, he can hear the soft sounds of someone moving around carefully, purposely trying not to make noise. he can hear quick footsteps and cutlery, the tap running, the fridge door opening and closing.

sousuke curls up more beneath the comforter. maybe if he stays still, whoever it is will leave before the air he’s breathing becomes too hot and he has to face the morning and whatever it is he did last night.

the footsteps come nearer though, skittish. sousuke holds his breath, lips pressed in a thin line. please leave please leave please

there is a soft sigh and suddenly there is a hand running its cold fingers gently through the hair at the top of sousuke’s head from where it’s escaping the cocoon and he can’t help it. he scrambles to a sitting position, stomach lurching dangerously, heart pounding, and grips the hand by its wrist tightly to stop it.

there, in front of him, straight out of his dreams or nightmares, is ai. he’s sitting on his knees, clear eyes wide and brow furrowed in concern. an oversized t-shirt is pooling high on his creamy thighs and falling off his slender shoulder, a red and purple mark where it meets ai’s delicate neck, and sousuke feels like he’s finally been burned by the light.

“senpai…”

that’s all it takes for sousuke to release ai’s wrist and get to his feet, bile rising in his throat. he stumbles towards the bathroom, except he’s not in his shitty room, and he needs to get out he has to he can’t-

cold hands grip his shoulders and squeeze firmly, grounding him, and ai guides him towards the bathroom. he stays outside as sousuke heaves, hunched over the toilet. small mercies, he supposes. he rinses his mouth with water afterwards, splashes his face and washes his hands, and sinks down to the floor, cold tiles beneath him as he rests his head back against the edge of the bathtub.

sousuke doesn’t know how long he stays that way before ai joins him, pushing a glass of water towards him and pressing two pills into his palm. they sit in silence, legs stretched out in front of them. ai’s are longer than they used to, but still so much shorter than his.

ai’s pinky is cold when it wraps around sousuke’s between them.

**Author's Note:**

> writing blog is natscribbles.tumblr.com  
> you know what to do


End file.
